Like the experience of tranquil and peace
Underneath water. My love for the kids
Is appealing and so satisfactory.
I confide with their harmless innocence
Oh my… oh my, where do babies come from,
A thousand toys and gadgets on the floor
Colors the room with such innocence.
Kettles from the fire waters the cereals
I picked up a spoon, to feed a baby
But with tender feet of low stamina
In flashes of light, tittering and giggling
Completing ten strides in just one second,
Round and round the room the little one runs;
They are the mirrors, that shows am aging.